


A Letter Or Two

by Legendofgays



Category: The Half Of It (Movie), The Half of It (2020)
Genre: Ellie Chu and Aster Flores, Ellster?, F/F, Fluff, Letters, One Shot, The Half Of It - Freeform, what would their ship name be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendofgays/pseuds/Legendofgays
Summary: Parted but not forgotten, Aster finds herself writing letters to Ellie throughout the years. Then fate steps in.
Relationships: Aster Flores & Ellie Chu, Aster Flores/Ellie Chu, Ellie Chu & Aster Flores, Ellie Chu/Aster Flores
Comments: 47
Kudos: 1064





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone my first ever The Half of it fic! be kind I hope you like it and GO STREAM IT ON NETFLIX NOW. Let me know what you think!

_05.01.2021_

_Dear Ellie Chu,_

_How has it been? It almost feels weird writing that out given the fact that it’s been almost a year since the last time we talked. Even weirder considering you’d probably never read this letter because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to bring myself to send it but I’m writing to you anyway because something happened that reminded me of you today. I was sitting in a shitty college bar with an open mic night and there was a girl who stood up on stage with nothing but her guitar in hand. Usually, I wouldn’t think that much of it. But as I was mindlessly twirling the straw of my drink she started to play “If you leave me now”, the song that played that day at the lake. The song. Our song. And it got me thinking about what you said. About how every song, movie and story has a best part. I can’t seem to decide if I’ve reached it yet. The best part of my story. Sometimes I think I peaked in high school. Good grades, respectable boyfriend (at least in Squahamish._ _Not that it takes much if you have money), the popularity (_ _when it wasn’t an empty means for self-esteem), but I sometimes think that maybe that’s it. That’s where my best life would’ve been. Like for example, I got into art school but it’s been a lot harder than I could’ve imagined. I’m working three jobs while trying to stay in school and between work, school and sleep I haven’t had much time to find people who get me. I mean I've met the occasional person, in class or at work that make it only marginally better but no one compared to you. It’s almost ironic. That you, someone I barely got to know for the better part of two months, knew me better than the people I’d spent most of my life with, the ones I’m supposed to call my friend. Even though it wasn’t even you, I got to know. Anyway, I hope you found something good to believe in heathen._

_Love,_

_Aster Flores._

* * *

_18.01.2022_

_Dear ~~Ellie Chu~~ , Ellie. _

_Hey again. It feels weird to address you like that. Ellie Chu. Like we are complete strangers. I mean I guess in a way we are but at the same time, we’re not. So I might stick with Ellie if that’s okay with you. Not that you have much say in the matter. I thought of you again. I was home over break and a part of me hoped I’d run into you. I mean it is a small town, you can practically hear the church bells from the station. I might’ve dropped by, on the off chance of running into you again. No you but I did run into your dad. He said you went back early because you got accepted into an early commencement course? Majoring in Liberal Arts, I should’ve known. I could see you become a great writer one day, or performer. Maybe even both. I remember that your senior performance at the winter talent show. Your voice was so amazing, is so amazing. It was a shame I didn’t get to hear more of it when I had the chance._

_Things have gotten better though. Since the last time we talked. Or I talked. It’s odd how therapeutic it is writing a letter to someone that you’d never send. To be honest, I wouldn’t even know where to send it. I found some really nice people in my Art History class last semester. We really hit it off. There’s only a couple of us Zoe, Blake, Dean and Viv but they are enough to make me stop questioning my decision to come here. It’s funny how some people can make a world of difference in a place, make it bearable. I guess I have you to thank. If you hadn’t challenged me to make the bold strokes, who knows where I’d be now. Probably pregnant with Trig’s baby. Can you imagine? The thought itself is mortifying. I hope to see you again one day. Even in passing._

_Love,_

_Aster Flores._

* * *

_25.11.2022_

_Dear Ellie,_

_You once said to me that if you knew anything about love, you’d quote yourself. Well, let me do that for you. Love is messy, selfish, horrible and bold. I’ll catch you up on the past year or so give or take, I met someone, a girl. This came as a shock to you and me both, believe me. But in a way, you were my first so I guess you deserve some credit in making me question what I thought I knew. It was sure one hell of a kiss. Anyway, I didn’t think much of it at first. We were friends, hung out in the same social circle and occasionally say hi to each other in passing but nothing more. That was until one night at the library. I was studying our good old friend Sartre “Life is nothing until it is lived; but it is yours to make sense of and the value of it is nothing else but the sense that you choose.” Words I’ve long lived by since our days of pseudo-Paul. Back to the point, we were studying in the library late one night and we found ourselves inching closer and closer subconsciously and then in a singular moment, an eyelash against my cheek, she brushed it away and we kissed. If only I knew then what I knew now, which was the fact that we were horribly mismatched. For every flaw, there sought a fix, every scar a mask. It became exhausting trying to fit into the mould of what was deemed perfect in her eyes and that’s when I realised that it wasn’t her. Mind you, it got messy and there are still tiny small fragments of moments where I miss her and question whether or not it was a mistake. But I think from you, I learnt long ago everything happens for a reason right? Had we never met, I wouldn’t have gone to art school. Had we never met, I would’ve been too scared to leave. And maybe that’s what I’m feeling right now. The fear of the unknown, the untangling of my life with hers. It’s scary. Rewriting my life again. But that’s our job right? To be the author of our own story, and every great author knows in order for the best story, rewriting is a necessity. Hopefully one day we can have our own rewrite. I think it’d be nice to see who it is I’m writing to again, anyway._

_Love,_

_Aster Flores._

* * *

_09.01.2023_

_Dear Ellie,_

_Guess who’s back in Squahamish? I don’t know why I keep asking you questions that you’ll never answer. If you haven’t guessed already, it’s me. Though only temporarily. I got an internship in New York. The artist’s capital right? At least that’s what I’ve been told. I-_

*****

“Aster?” She looked up at the sound of her name. But there was something eerily familiar about that voice. One she’d imagined in her head a million times before. Ellie. Standing in front of her was the same girl who kissed her all those years ago, a kiss she’d never forgotten. Almost everything about her was the same. Though Aster couldn’t help but note the vast improvements she’d made to her wardrobe, wearing a hoodie layered jacket and jeans that sat nicely on her hips. She even wore her hair out, something Aster had never seen before. A small curl formed at the corner of her lips. 

“Ellie Chu. We meet again.” She stood up and tilted her head to the side. It was odd seeing her again, having spent so much time talking to her through her letters to finally seeing her again. 

“Mhmm. I mean I did say I’d see you in a couple of years?” Ellie tugged the side of her jacket nervously. She never imagined what this moment would be like, the moment they saw each other again. Not to mention the ageless beauty that was Aster Flores. Even after all these years, a part of her was captivated by her, suddenly curious about the missing years that stood between them.

“And are you going to kiss me again? The least a girl could ask is for some forewarning this time.” She smirked and Ellie could feel her cheeks turn a light crimson colour. 

“I-” Ellie’s eyes widened, at a loss for words. Aster chuckled lightly and shook her head. 

“I’m joking.” 

“Right... How are you?” Ellie recovered quickly.

“I’m good. I’ve got one more semester in art school and I have this internship in New York lined up-” Aster started.

“Really?” Ellie suddenly perked up. “I’m in New York too. I got a job at a publishing firm there. I’m starting next week.” Aster’s smile grew wider.

“That’s so amazing. I guess you were able to find something good to believe in?” Aster said recalling the words she’d spoken last time they met. A small twitch in Ellie’s lips was enough to show that she’d recognised it too. 

“I did.” Ellie nodded bashfully and looked down, her eyes catching the corner of Aster’s page. A page that had scribbled on the top, her name. She furrowed her brows curiously and Aster followed her gaze to where she was staring and immediately tried to cover up the letter. “What's this?” Ellie said with a wide grin that broke out along her lips as she held the letter up in her hand and skimmed the top of the letter.

“I-” Aster sighed. “It’s a letter…” She squinted in embarrassment. “I write to you sometimes. You know, when I need to clear my head. It helps.” 

“Why me?” She asked looking up at Aster now, searching for a tell in her facial expression. 

“Because you were or are I guess the first person to see me. Kind of. When we talked. And I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to someone who got me.” Aster admitted. Despite finding many like-minded kins, Ellie was still the only one who understood her, on a level that was beyond worded expression 

“I never got any letters though.” Ellie narrowed her eyes, curiously and tilted her head. She would definitely remember if she had. 

“Like I’d send it to you. That's way too embarrassing.” Aster scoffed, running an anxious hand through her hair.

“I mean they are addressed to me right?” Ellie noted. Aster stared back. They were. But they had no intention of being sent. 

“Yes…” She snatched the letter back from Ellie’s grasp. “But in no way did I plan on sending them. They’re in blank envelopes.” Aster defended. 

“Well okay then.” Ellie fell quiet and hesitated for a moment. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a letter. “I wrote you one too.” 

“You did?” Aster’s interest suddenly peaked and she bit the edge of her lip.

“Yeah. I mean I didn’t know if I was going to send it. But on the off chance, I’d see you back here before I left for New York I wanted to write you something.” Aster reached out for the letter but Ellie pulled back. “Oh no. You’re not reading it.”

“What? Why not?” Aster exclaimed, with a small pout forming.

“Not like this.” Ellie smiled amusingly. Ellie took out a piece of paper and scribbled down a few words on it before handing it to Aster. 

“What’s this?” She looked over the piece of paper curiously. 

“It’s my address. For my apartment in New York. You send me your letter and I’ll send you mine.” Ellie said. Her fingers reached out to touch Aster but she held herself back instead backing away slowly. Her lips curled, looking back at Aster who stood frozen momentarily.

“That’s not fair!” Aster argued playfully as Ellie swung her arms back and forth. 

“I’ll see you soon.” Ellie smiled widely before turning her heels around and walking away. 


	2. Ellie's Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I wasn't really going to extend this fic but the outpour of love has been just wow. So it's not much. But I did write Ellie's letter. It's not super long but I hope you enjoy.

_ Dear Aster, _

_ It feels almost strange. Writing that not as Paul but as me. Ellie. I’ve never been great at words, at least the kind of words that aren’t structured or graded. Words that are raw, honest and well, real. I don’t even know if you’ll get the chance to read it, I don’t even know where you are. A small part of me hopes that when I come back to Squahamish, you won’t be there. Because that means that you made your bold stroke, you had the courage to break free from the chains of Hellqamish and not settle for a menial life in a less than remarkable backwater town, that is Squahamish. Another part hopes that a slight chance that you might still be there so that I’m able to see you again which I know, is selfish of me. But somehow with you, it’s how I am. Like the first time I wrote these letters. I knew what I did was wrong. I knew it from the first moment I agreed, before I even wrote my first words to you. That’s why I didn’t think much of it when I quoted wings of desire. Who even knows Wim Wenders at our age. But then you surprised me. And the more you did the more I wanted to know. It was so easy to get lost in an ocean of words and thoughts with you that I even forgot I was supposed to be writing to you as Paul and not me. It was the first time that I found somebody that it clicked with. Your thoughts bounced off my thoughts and weaving together the greatest piece of art in the history of Squahamish. The more I got to know you, the harder it was to stop and watching you fall for Paul knowing that it wasn’t Paul, was my gravest mistake. Because hurting you was the last thing I wanted. I don’t know. What the purpose is for me writing this letter. I think in a way I wanted to find a way to apologise. But also a way to talk to you again. In the last couple of years, that past by I’ve been able to meet so many incredible people. So many people from different strokes of life. But In those years I still have never met anyone quite like you. Maybe it’s wishful, maybe naive to think that something like soulmates exists and even borderline delusional to think that maybe you were mine. At least one of them. I hope that maybe one day this letter finds its way to you. And that maybe one day we’re able to rewrite some part of our story at least. Maybe there will be a better best part. I hope to see you but I also hope I don’t. _

_ Love  _

_ Ellie.  _


End file.
